


Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night

by ElReyCiervo



Series: Yulmallen AU Drabbles [9]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Also Komui can throw the best shade at people and sound totally innocent, Anxiety, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Language, Multi, Nonbinary Alma Karma, Off to War, Other, Title taken from Dylan Thomas's poem, Worry, Yulmallen, Yulmallen AU, third side of the war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-09 03:25:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11095884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElReyCiervo/pseuds/ElReyCiervo
Summary: Drabble #9) The clock in the room was their own personal war bell, and suddenly the time to go off to war came sooner than expected.





	Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own D. Gray-Man
> 
> Warnings: language 
> 
> Wow, thank you all for the feedback and kudos and such throughout this series—it’s been so great to hear from you all! I was trying to push this another installment, but I don’t think a tenth one would have fit very well with this. So, I am sad to say that this is coming to an end with this installment right here. Thank you all for sticking with me, and I hope you all enjoy this last hurrah. (o u o)/ <3 <3 <3

The time had come sooner than Alma had anticipated.

Even now, sitting on the edge of Kanda’s bed waiting for the hour to tick away, they had not expected the week to be over so soon. Komui had been given the approval for their ‘mission’, albeit with a wary and raised metaphorical eyebrow from the higher-ups. From what the Supervisor had told them, their mission would be to hunt down Innocence pieces in a large group of four that would split into pairs.  It was only after assuring Leverrier that Link would reign in Allen and Kanda, a general, could handle Alma did the stern man accept the proposal.

Tim, the sneaky little golem, had snuck into Komui’s office during the discussion with Leverrier, and returned with the best backhandedness that Alma had ever heard from Komui. “‘I’m _I_ sure’?” Komui had parroted back from the question Leverrier had asked, placing an innocent hand on his chest. “Of course I’m not one hundred percent sure about him, my good sir. After all, it was Central’s _wise_ and _authoritative_ decision to green-light exorcist Yuu Kanda into becoming a general. A _simple_ Supervisor like myself could not possibly have a _fraction_ of the clear foresight that Central possesses, so I must rely on their skilled decision. I mean, what General could not handle an exorcist like Alma? Surely one of such powerful caliber like Kanda could take on that task. Are you...are you doubting your superiors, Leverrier? The very Vatican itself? My, my, I don’t think that looks good in the slightest, don’t you think?” It was here that Leverrier’s face had turned an ugly shade of puce and sputtered out a denial to the accusation and an approval to the mission.

God damn, Komui could give the most snide and insulting comments without outright sounding like it better than anyone Alma ever knew. They could have kissed the man had they been there when it happened.

Kanda, Allen, and Alma had laughed themselves stupid after Tim’s recording.

Even when he was not present, Komui was making their lives just a little easier. Every laugh, every smile, and every joke made it that much easier to breathe.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Allen’s voice brought them to the present as they looked up from where they had been staring for what they had guessed must have been a while. “Oh,” Alma gave a little, dismissive smile, “nothing serious. Just thinking, is all.”

Their paler lover sat down on the bed next to them, first aid kit in hand. Even though Kanda had not stopped rummaging through his trunk of clothes, Alma knew he was listening to the two of them. He was never one for direct emotion and all that. “Want to tell me what about?” Allen asked.

Alma traced a few thin scars on the other’s normal hand. “I think you already know what.”

Allen flipped over his hand in order to grasp Alma’s smoother, tanner one. Alma could feel a few callouses on Allen’s hand, ones they knew told stores of hard work, grit, and perseverance. The scars, if they were to think about that in the same vein, told the same stories as well. Allen’s body could speak tales that he did not have to verbalize, whereas Alma’s could not. Regeneration and healing banished the scars from their body as well as the callouses, leaving the Second with trials that could only be spoken by word, not through the flesh. “Tell me anyway?” Allen was persistent, Alma could give him that.

They sighed, looking around the room: bags near packed, medicine about to be stocked, and weapons (a few knives Link made them start carrying for precautionary reasons, as if the three of them weren’t weapons already) in their holsters ready to be tucked away. Although preparing to embark on a literal path to war, Alma could not help but savor the quiet and calm that blanketed over the three of them. It was almost like a lullaby, and they were near tired enough to fall asleep to it. “It’s almost time. This,” they gestured to the room with a broad wave of their hand, “ _thiiiiis_ might be the last moment of peace we get in the foreseeable future. I guess I’m just taking it all in, I suppose.”

The ticking of the wall clock seemed to be louder, almost mocking.

Sighing, Allen gave their hand a squeeze. “I understand. Similar moments have happened to me all this week when I get some time to myself. Even though you two are coming with me, I still…I think I still worry that—” he abruptly cut off then glared at a random space on the wall, but Alma knew it was not a weird, random occurrence. A certain Noah head-mate often made Allen break off from conversations like that. “Sorry, I was saying that I worry about what is going to happen to us. This…this isn’t going to be easy for anyone.” He looked down, eyebrows scrunched. Alma reached over and rubbed a thumb between his brows, trying to melt away the tension.  “I just, I-I don’t want you to get hurt.”

A snort came from Kanda as he raised his head from looking inside the trunk in order to prop it up on his hand, elbow resting on the lip of the trunk. “Like we’ve told you a million and one times, Moyashi, we can take care of ourselves. We are not leaving you to gallivant away to the Third Side by yourself. That what partners do, baka.”

 _Of course Kanda had to give his own unique input_ , Alma smiled, tired but fond.

A roll of mercury eyes. “Did I ask for your opinion, Jerkanda?”

“Well you got it, Moyashi.” Kanda found what he was looking for and dumped it in his bag. An extra pair of pants and four hair ties. Turning to Alma, he said, “Anyway, those kinds of thoughts are normal, Alma. Don’t keep thinking about it or you’re going to get upset, you oaf.”

A click of a tongue. “Yuu Kanda, ever the person of comfort. How loving.” The sarcasm was so sickeningly blatant that it could have caused another outbreak of the Black Plague. Allen was on a roll today.

“I swear _to God_ I will gut you right here and now if you don’t leave me the fuck alone.”

Alma couldn’t help their own insert. “But I thought you said we were supposed to stay together ‘cause that’s what partners do, Yuu.”

His glare would have killed a lesser person.

Watching the two men in front of them bicker like it was the most normal thing in the world made them feel lighter, made it easier to take a breath. If these two foolish lovers of theirs could stay the same—stay true to what made them who they were—then Alma would be happy. They were aware of the circumstances that they would all face soon enough, but they held on to the slim hope and desire that their lovers would not be changed and twisted at their core by what the new challenges had in store for them. _Don’t let Allen become push himself away from us. Let him have just a few good things—let him have us._ They gripped Allen’s hand just a bit tighter as they reached out to grab Kanda’s. _Don’t let Kanda be swallowed by his hatred like me. Let him love like he’s wanted to._

The ticking of the clock seemed to ring in their ears, but the number of minutes they had left struck a worse chord in their heart.

 _Tick, tick, tick_.

Their own personal war bell in the room.

_Tick, tick, tick._

* * *

Other than the continuous background noise that nature had to offer—the buzzing of insects, the rustling of leaves as the wind caressed the trees, and the soft gurgling of a little stream—it was quiet outside. The sun had just set a few minutes ago, painting the sky brilliant yet soft fuchsias, lavenders, and indigos. The glittering stars were beginning to appear, as were the night creatures of the forest. As the three of them stood in the main entryway of the Order, about to depart, Alma could almost describe the evening as quiet, gentle even.

However, that could not be said about the emotions raging inside their heart.

They kept it muted and together as their friends waved them good bye. The smile on their face belied what they were truly feeling: anxiety of the future, rage towards Central and the corrupt Order, and worry for their friends and lovers. They only had but a short period of time before Central became suspicious of all of them and sent CROWs to subdue them. A shiver that had nothing to do with the evening temperature passed through the Second’s body as they remembered the acute pain a CROW could inflict.

With the great doors of the main entrance shut, their journey officially had begun. They latched onto Kanda and Allen’s hands, feeling an unpleasant feeling well in their chest like nausea. Kanda said nothing, but gave them a comforting look while Allen smiled, twining their fingers tighter together. Link, ever present behind the three of them, said nothing; however, Alma could feel the Inspector sending positive energy to them.

“We better pick up the pace,” Allen said, voice low and strong. While his voice did not waver, the subtle, irritated eye twitch spoke for the annoying Noah in his head. “We have a lot of ground to cover.”

Link input, “There is a train in the next town over. If we hurry, we can make the one that will take us across the border. That will save us a great deal of time.”

Hands still gripped together and eyes forward with purpose, Alma picked up the pace. The Holy War between the Order and the Earl may be continuously raging, but they were about to bring a war all their own. Neither the Order or the Earl were innocent in this battle; neither could lie about the suffering they caused. The Order manipulated and manipulated and _manipulated_ the good people that worked for it, experimented and tortured the people who were supposed to fight. Inadvertently, the Order was just like the Earl and his Noah—tearing families apart and destroying what made people who they were. The Earl was more blatant in his manipulation and destruction, sending Akuma to do his work for him. Neither side was innocent, but both sides were to blame.

The Third Side would not stand for anymore destruction. No more manipulation, no more experimentation, no more outright killing, no more wanton destruction. It was time to bring the Holy War to an end. With Allen and Kanda by their side, Alma would rage against all the gruesome atrocities both sides wrought.   

They would not go gentle into the good night.

* * *

 

Published: 6/4/17

If you liked this series, I post some more Yulmallen stuff on my tumblr blog [badlydrawnyullen](http://badlydrawnyullen.tumblr.com/) and I also have a regular DGM blog as well, [elreyexorcista](http://elreyexorcista.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Title from the poem “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night” by Dylan Thomas.


End file.
